


Quiet

by sunalso



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Long-Term Relationship(s), Not comics compliant, Sexual Content, a quiet night in, happiness is, love lives in the quiet moments, slayers and vamps they're just like us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 23:20:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14987759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: Not every night has to be exciting.





	Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> 6/20/18: To say I'm upset about the start of S12 is a vast understatement. I'm livid. Even though I expected it. I know I don't own Buffy. Or that I have fanfic. Or Joss always does this. Or that the comics aren't "really canon". It doesn't change that I feel like I'm going to puke and as if I lost something important to me. So I wrote this, set today, because I needed it. Joss might not understand what a healthy long-term relationship can look like, but that doesn't mean they don't exist. Or that love doesn't truly live in the quiet moments. 
> 
> And I tossed in something to make Gort laugh because we both could use one.

Buffy flopped down on the couch and turned on the local news. She really should put the clothes in the dryer. Or rinse off her dishes. Or go through the stack of mail on the counter. But she didn’t feel like it, and there was nothing that couldn’t wait until later. It was her night off.

It must have been a slow news day because the news anchors were talking about the bake sale the local school was having. Buffy had bought some brownies earlier and had one for dinner. Yum.

Having your own apartment and being an adult meant no one cared if you had ice cream for breakfast or only cleaned the bathroom once a week. Well, once a week-ish.

Buffy had her weekend uniform on, which included her favorite yoga pants, _Gilmore Girls_ t-shirt, and her hair up in a ponytail. Makeup hadn’t been on her to do list, it was too hot, and she would just end up sweating it off. With mascara being twenty-five dollars a pop at the mall, she didn’t want to waste that kind of money on the cashiers at the grocery store or the ladies manning the bake sale table. They got bare-faced Buffy.

There was a stirring from the bedroom, and a muffled oath as Spike woke up. He opened the door still naked.  

“Have you seen my favorite pair of jeans?” he asked, his hair sticking up in twenty different directions.

“I washed them two days ago. I think they’re in the blue laundry basket.”

The door shut, but it was only a few minutes later that Spike wandered out, his hair still a riot of curls. He was wearing the jeans he’d wanted, the pair so worn that they had holes in the knees and the back pocket he kept his lighter in. He also had a faded _Black Flag_ t-shirt on which was probably older than her. The neck was stretched out of shape, and there were threadbare places in the back. She wiggled a finger through one of them to poke him.

Spike didn’t even bother responding, just yawned and watched the TV. “Must be a slow day if they’re talking about a bloody bake sale.”

“I got brownies.”

He stood and walked to the kitchen, and after a little banging around and the sound of the microwave whirring, he returned with a brownie and a mug of blood. He ate and watched the news, which gave way to one of those Ninja Warrior shows that both Spike and she had a lot of opinions on. When he was done with his breakfast, having mopped up the last bit of blood with the last bite of brownie, he slumped back on the couch, and Buffy stuck her feet in his lap.

“Oh, come on,” he groused at the TV when a contestant didn’t make a jump and ended up in the water. “That was easy.”

“I think he was tired from the swingy-handhold one,” she said.

“Still easy. I could sodding do it without breaking a sweat.”

“That’s because you don’t sweat.”

“Semantics,” he said with an eye roll. Buffy poked his ribs with a toe, and he grunted. “What’s the plan tonight?”

“I don’t have one. It’s not my patrol night. You?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“We could go to a movie or something.”

“That would require getting dressed.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Maybe there’s one on TV.”

Her phone chimed, and it was a message from Willow. Buffy spent the next forty-five minutes chatting with her friend about everything and everyone while Spike continued to bitch at the TV.

When Willow had to go, Buffy set her phone on the coffee table beside Spike’s dirty dishes.

He grabbed her t-shirt and waggled his eyebrows as he stretched out on the couch.

Buffy snorted and pecked him on the lips before standing and pushing off her yoga pants and underwear. Spike undid his jeans and got them down as far as his thighs. She straddled him and bent over, kissing him as he slid one hand under her shirt to play with her breasts. The fingers of his other hand rubbed between her legs in just the way she liked, guaranteeing she’d be wet quickly. After a few minutes, Buffy sat up and fisted his cock to line it up before pushing herself down on his hard shaft.

Throwing her head back, she rode him hard and fast, the couch’s springs squeaking noisily beneath them. She pressed her fingers to her clit and came quickly. Her fingers didn’t stop moving, and she managed to get off a second time before Spike’s hips lifted off the cushions. He came with a rough moan.

Buffy collapsed against his chest, and he ran his fingers through her hair.

“Love you,” Spike said, kissing her nose.

“Love you too.” That part never got old, neither did the warmth in his eyes.

Her phone buzzed on the table, and she grabbed it. “Hey, Xander’s trying to reach you.”

“Oh, right, he wanted to play some _Diablo III_ tonight. New season started. Do you care?”

Buffy shook her head. “I wanted to binge _Outlander_ because Dawn won’t shut up about it, and I promised I’d email her my thoughts while I watched.”

“I’m not invited?” Spike pouted.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Och, aye, lassie, I can see where I stand with ye!” His fingers found her ribs, and she giggled as she threw herself backward away from his tickling.

Spike smirked and stood to hitch up his pants.

“I should put the dishes in the washer first.” Buffy found her pants and pulled them on sans underwear. She’d learned a lot of bad habits from her boyfriend, but this was by far the most comfortable.

Spike made a face and grumbled as he carried his dishes to the sink. They clattered in the basin as he set them down and went to put the trash out. She rinsed off the dishes and started the dishwasher while Spike ran the vacuum over the carpet.

Finished, they went their separate ways, Spike to the computer in the office and Buffy back to the couch to start her binge.

The show was pretty good, though she didn’t think she enjoyed it quite as much as Dawn did. But her sister’s fanfic recs were spot on.

Buffy had paused the show and was reading a really good coffee shop au when Spike walked through the living room to hunt down another mug of blood and some Flaming Hot Cheetos. He paused on the way back to the computer room to kiss the top of her head.

They were a couple of night owls, and the sun was cresting the horizon before Spike—who’d returned to the couch, and picked up a novel when Xander had gone to bed— stood and stretched. Buffy wiped her eyes as she looked up from her phone screen. She’d fallen down the AO3 rabbit hole, and the race car driver au she was reading was excellent. They loved each other so much and why couldn’t they see they belonged together?

“Bedtime?” Spike asked.

Buffy nodded. Yawning, she swung onto her feet and shuffled behind Spike into the bedroom. He shucked his clothes into a pile on the floor and flipped back the covers. Buffy lay on her side, and he scooted over to spoon her, nuzzling the back of her head.

“Hey, Spike,” she said.

“Mmm,” he replied.

“I really like our lives now.”

He kissed the back of her neck. “Me too. It’s nice.”

“Do you think I’m too boring?” She twisted so she could see his face.

Spike chuckled. “Two days ago, I watched you take out a nest of acid-spitting demons from another dimension. That certainly wasn’t boring. Messy, but not boring.”

“They ruined my favorite boots,” she grumbled.

“And you had such a sodding terrible time shopping online for a new pair.” He kissed her cheek, and she settled back down. “No, Buffy, this isn’t boring. It’s normal. Or as normal as a Slayer and a vamp are going to get. For me, it’s like being in bloody heaven.”

She thought for a moment, though her memories of actual heaven had long ago become distant and hazy. “Y’know, I don’t think it’s too far off for me, either.” She was happy and surrounded by love. At the minute literally surrounded, as Spike slid a leg over hers.

“I love you,” he said again, the last word ending in a yawn.

She snuggled against him. “I love you too.”


End file.
